


Accessorizing Is Not A Blood Sport, So No Daggers

by Toozmanykids



Series: Loki and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day [5]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Hangover from Hel, Loki is very uncomfortable, Loki plans to escape, Non-Consensual Touching, Patient Loki, Soirees on Sakkaar, agitated Loki, always be polite to your Mistress, high fashion, itchy Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toozmanykids/pseuds/Toozmanykids
Summary: Well, Loki is still stuck on Sakkaar with that damn obedience disk stuck in his neck, and everyone seems to have a controller but him. Until he can execute a plan of escape, he is just biding his time, desperately trying to hold his temper and stay in everyone's good graces, especially the Grandmaster's.To start, Loki needs to get dressed for the fancy Depravity Dance tonight. The Grandmaster specifically instructed him to look sexy. Such a task should be quick and easy, since it's not the clothes that make a man, or a prince, or a king, or a god. Loki would be sexy on a paper bag."SHOULD be quick and easy" is the the key, the dead giveaway. But really, when was the last time anything was quick and easy for Loki?His luck has NOT changed yet. Poor Loki.





	Accessorizing Is Not A Blood Sport, So No Daggers

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS IS PART FIVE.**
> 
> Emeraldrosequartz began this story, part one, before handing it off to Latent_thoughts, who handed it off to Caffiend, who handed it to off to Misreall, who then handed it off to ME!!! I have just been beside myself with excitement working with such amazing writers! Absolutely a dream come true! 
> 
> This has been so much fun that I got quite carried away, and Loki just wouldn't let me stop writing. In fact, I've hijacked part six as well, before I will hand this off to our next writer.
> 
> Until everyone's portions are uploaded, please be aware that :  
Part One is by Emeraldrosequartz  
Part Two is by Latent_thoughts  
Part Three is by Caffiend  
Part Four is by Misreall  
Part Five is by Toozmanykids (me!!)  
Part Six is by Toozmanykids (coming soon)

====================

_ *Last words of Part 4 by @nildespirandum.* _

_ Ein Dwi Gast poked his head in one more time, “I expect all manner of depravity tonight. Wear something sexy. Heh, on you though, I bet everything is sexy.” _

_ When the door closed Loki walked to the bar, picked up the bottle that looked like it had the worst possible liquor in it and drained so quickly even Valkyrie would have suggested he slow it down and then threw himself onto the bed. _

_ He was a Prince of Asgard, a god, a king, and now he was to be half court jester, half novelty act for the most distressing being in the universe until he could figure out how to free himself. _

_ So be it. _

_ If the Grandmaster wanted depravity, Loki would show him some depravity.  _

======================

Part 5 by @toozmanykids / @dangertoozmanykids101 

Loki opened his eyes only to immediately close them again. Ohhh, his head felt almost dizzy for a moment like the room had been spinning when he opened his eyes. Had it actually been spinning? His bed definitely felt like it was rocking. Yes. Rocking and spinning.

Last time he felt a bed literally rocking was.... was forever ago when he 'dozed off' in the fancy cabin of Captain Tryggvason's brand new Drakkar longship. Even feeling destablized and nauseated now, Loki still chuckled to himself at how ridiculous and outrageous that night so long ago had been. Hopefully someday he'll be able to look back and find the humor in his current harrowing situation as well.

'If I live that long,' groaning again at the severity of his dizziness. He needed to at least feel stable enough to think straight if he planned to ever sit up again, let alone escape. 

'What a night that was,' he reminisced about some very wild rocking that night aboard his captain friend's pride and joy so long ago and forgotten, while currently riding out the extremely unpleasant and debilitating rocking of his faltering equilibrium or hangover from Hel.

In momentary panic he questioned himself, 'I'm not going to open my eyes to discover I'm stuck on a boat again, am I?' No. No. Of course not. The water shortage was one of Sakaar's defining qualities, so who would ever have a boat here? 

That is exactly what happened once upon a long crazy night two centuries ago. Loki had merely dozed off while the virgin Drakkar was still anchored just off the shores of Nidaros, after playing a very active and enthusiastic game of hide-and-go-seek all over the ship during the Bon Voyage send off party. Loki had been 'It', of course, chasing tail in and out of all 30 rooms below deck. He had just finished testing out the captain's new mattress when fatigue overtook him, because if it was fit for the activities of a Prince - a God, then surely a captain would be fine sleeping on it. It was the least he could do for a good friend.

Alas, when he did wake up the longship had embarked with Loki still aboard and was in the midst of high alert, being overtaken by a wicked storm and possibly something else. The lower decks were all flooded, and waves were knocking every Viking overboard who hadn't tied themselves secure to something. 

It was fortunate that Loki had tagged along. Otherwise without his seidr augmenting the wind in their favor and adding extra buoyancy to the beefcake vikings who fell overboard, they all would have drowned for sure with the ship sunk to the bottom of the sea or wrecked to pieces.

'Ohhhh, the Tranin, the grandest Drakkar the vikings had ever built...' Without the fortune of their God gracing their presence, it would only have become another song of lost loves and wasted warriors aboard the fastest longship to sink into the dark depths of the ocean.

At least the fallen warriors who Loki couldn't save drowned with honor after valiantly battling an unwinnable battle against Loki's very own dear Jörmungandr the Sea Serpent. 

As it turned out, Jörmungandr was merely throwing a tantrum again, reinforcing the 'Insatiable Middle Child Syndrome Theory' in a cry out for attention from Daddy. Although Loki was not responsible for the unexpected storm they encountered, he had unintentionally sailed out to sea without planning to actually visit or bring gifts for 'his favorite not-so-little sea monster.' 

To make amends to both parties, he promised to replace the bow's figurehead damaged during the height of the storm when it was crushed in the sea monster's jaw. The new one would be carved in perfect likeness of his beautiful and powerful offspring, ensuring safe passage forever more for the Tranin as well as a tangible reminder of a father's everlasting love. 

In the end, Loki may have prevented the formidable Drakkar longship from sinking, but maybe his presence had been an unlucky catalyst in the first place? Although he surely had nothing to do with the severe thunderstorm. Did he? 

Best for neither Loki nor his dear old friend Captain Olav Tryggvason to dwell on such notions for very long. No matter the cause, their savior was there! Best to stick with that. 

On the other hand, the fair Captain's new feather mattress was ruined, but that's another tale altogether. All the sea water it soaked up from the storm's flooding of the cabins didn't help either.

_________

Laying there for another moment, he gathered his thoughts which mostly revolved around the question of 'What in Valhalla was in that bottle I drank?' A fermented drink alone would never cause him to fall asleep or render him unconscious like this, and surely would never affect a God with symptoms such as these.

'Note to self: Find out what that drink in the large bottle was called and steal the recipe.'

With a drop of seidr and a good shake of his head, running his hands over his face and fingers through his silky black hair to straighten out the kinks and fashionably feather the ends so they barely brushed his shoulders, he felt right as rain again, save for a slight twinge on his neck neither he nor Ariana could quite heal. Otherwise he was well rested, fully healed, feeling satiated and quite accomplished.

It was time to begin planning his escape.

_______

Loki opened the double doors of the closet with gusto, prepared to assess his attire options for the Soiree of Sin that evening, petulantly mumbling to himself, "'Wear something sexy' the Mad Monarch demands. Hphm! Damn right it's not the clothes that make this prince sexy." Still energized with his virility from earlier and giving a subconscious toss of his hair he stepped through the doors like a prima donna and scanned the space in front of him.

"This has to be a joke!!" he yelled to no one, gritting his teeth in growing offense as his eyes scanned the room. The rounded walls were lined with hooks hanging long flowy silk chiffon fabric strips in every color of the spectrum. A large round table of polished metal that looked to be salvaged from the wing of an aircraft stood in the center of the room, covered with rough worn looking straps of leather wound into perfect spirals for display. The colors varied from dark brownish reds to jet black to pale pinks bordering on white. Loki cringed at the thought that there didn't appear to be an abundance of livestock or non-sentient wildlife on this planet to be skinned, so best to not dwell on the source animal for tanning hide on Sakaar.

In an utter of disgust, "Ridiculous!" Still voicing his complaints out loud to an empty room he fussed while looking for a door to a back room with more selection, "There must be a second closet. Who would ever need so many accessories unless they were tying someone down to the bed or hanging them from the ceiling?" Now that particular thought swam through Loki's mind like a warm wave of nostalgia.

"Hmm, maybe I can find an eager bunny while I'm here. It has been ages since I've practiced any of my 'knottical arts'."

Even in this stressful environment, Loki couldn't resist the smug smile that spread across his face thinking about what he could do with all these accessories. Maybe he should pick out a souvenir to remember this place. Reaching out to stroke several of the green silks, he pulled one down to stash in his interdimensional pocket.

With a slight more spring in his step, he twirled on his heels to leave only to find another wall of scarves. Any momentary lightness of mood sank with the gravity of a collapsing star, with just as many metaphorical sparks flying out of his ears as literal sparks dancing around his fingertips.

Two long strides sent him to the wall that had replaced the doors. Ripping down the scarves in handfuls, Loki pounded on and prodded at the wall behind, moving counterclockwise systematically searching for any sign of the now hidden doors or for clues of magical concealment, but found nothing. He growled and cursed in frustration and disbelief that he, the Trickster God himself, just got fooled by some simple hidden door illusion.

Even worse, after making a full trip around the perimeter of the room he not only found himself back where he started, but also saw no evidence that he had torn a single scarf off the wall. Filling his hands with glowing crackling balls of green explosive energy, Loki prepared to blast his way through the walls.

"I have no time for this trickery!" shouting to anyone who might have been listening, Loki stepped back ready to hurl his power at the wall.

"That's right, my little princeling. We don't have time for anymore nonsense. Now, chop chop! Take a deep breath because tantrum time is over. It's time to prepare to greet the Master."

Loki spun around to find a woman descending down from the ceiling in the center of the room, or rather a creature very different from anyone or anything he had ever encountered before. Her torso, head, and facial features all appeared similar to any Aesir on Asgard or Human on Midgard or similar realms. If she were standing behind a desk she would easily be mistaken for a prim and proper humanoid being. Her stiff formal countenance was matched by the severity of the bun that her hair was pulled back into and by the light brown leather band wound around her ribs like a corset pulled so tight that her skin bulged out at the edges. Yet she moved with the grace of a spider slowly descending down from her web above, speaking in a stern yet gentle tone to calm her panicking wiggling prey before she subdued him completely and stored him away for a midnight snack.

Below the waist is where this woman diverged from Loki's catalog of encountered species. Beneath the corset her skin was a striking contrast to that of her upper body. It was a brilliant dark teal color, with pale little brown spots, like freckles that faded away toward her limbs. She had six more arms circling her waist equalling eight arms total. Her hands just floated aimlessly when not in use or holding something, whimsically swaying like kelp leaves following the ocean current. Where a humanoids legs would be, she seemed to hover over two dozen or more tendrils that reached out and shrunk back, curling and coiling in and out when they weren't straightening or folding items within reach, puttering around the room as everything appeared to be within reach within this closet.

"What is the meaning of this mockery? I demand you lift your illusion that hides the door immediately!" Loki aggressively stepped toward the woman, glaring into her eyes and flinging 2 blades from thin air into his hands to emphasize the threat he was to her.

She had no more reaction than the eye roll a parent would respond with to the insolent stomp of a toddler. Reaching out with two arms that appeared to lengthen from the joints as they extended, she easily avoided the swipes of his attack as she disarmed one hand and caught the other knife mid-air after Loki threw it toward her face.

"Thank you. We would not want anyone to get cut, now would we?" she chided as she reached up with her telescoping arms to place his knives on the tall shelf that circled the room's perimeter. Notably, it was even above Loki's head out of reach.

A slight movement caught Loki's attention among the round teal colored boxes on the shelf near where she placed his knives, yet instantly everything was still as stone up there again. That spot may be the only clue to where the room's illusion is weakest. He needed to get a closer look at those shelves.

The austere creature watching him didn’t miss his glance, letting her eyes follow his and smiling to herself a smile with a lifetime of secrets locked away behind it including the secret about what was atop those shelves. 

"Right. Now child, do we have any other sharp objects up our sleeves that we need to set aside for the moment? May we finally proceed with the evening preparations of... you?" Her eyes held a smirk looking at the sleeveless man in front of her who lost his torn and bloodied shirt hours ago. In addition, his leather pants were too tight to conceal anything in a pocket.

"Yes, very amusing. Ha ha, indeed," he retorted, rubbing the palms of his hands on his leather covered thighs, trying to redirect and dispel his agitation. His sarcasm, though, would have been obvious to even the most dull of creatures, which of course she was surely not. 

Changing his tactic, Loki acquiesced to match her polite tone and formality in hopes to garner information and an ally, since intimidation appeared to have no effect on her. With a surrendering chuckle and show of his now empty hands, he flashed his most disarming smile and stepped back to signify retreat.

"My apologies, Miss. You startled me, igniting my warrior's defensive reflex. No direct offense was intended toward you, I promise. Please forgive my brash behavior and allow me to introduce myself. I am Loki, Prince of...."

"I know exactly who you are, child," she interrupted.

With a deep breath and a bow of his head to mask his irritation, he responded, "Then you have me at another disadvantage. I know not your name, nor the nature of this room in which you have imprisoned me," slowly spinning with his hands stretched out gesturing to the circular nature of the room, at the same time again feeling for any sensations of magic used. Being held captive within an unexplainable phenomenon was reason enough to kill this creature, but if he killed her first, finding the exit might take longer. No time for such inconveniences. Best to first discover the room's secret and weakness as well as hers. Yep. Quicker to befriend her. 

Lucky her.

"You are the young Prince Loki and you may call me Mistress Sheeva. You are the contender to the Grandmaster's Champion. I hope with some rest for a few days your hand to hand combat speeds up, otherwise I'm just wasting time yet again chit-chatting and exchanging names with another dead man. At least this time, for a dead man, you are far prettier for the eyes."

Loki tried to interject some words to contradict her condescension, but she shushed him with one finger, continuing her less than warm introduction.

"It's my job to see that you are properly attired for each and every event you are to attend. I am not your captor nor your warden. I have my job and you will have yours. If you resist, or jeopardize my job or my safety in any way, I have no qualms about incapacitating you to insure your obedience."

The controller seemed to materialize in her hand and then disappear again, like an illusionist would pass a coin back and forth between his hand and one's ear with the mere sleight of hand. If she had an interdimensional pocket herself, Loki could not sense it.

"We are all trapped here. No one escapes Sakaar. We were all orphaned here, lost and unloved, until the Grandmaster found us. Now we have a purpose and place; we have a home and a real family. We are loved and treasured. We are the property of the Grandmaster." Her voice went almost sing-song as she recited the local propaganda, as she smiled at him with a touch of brainwashed complacency bleeding through her all-business facade.

Loki's hand gently touched the disk stuck in his neck, easily remembering each time he had endured its electrocution. Inwardly growling to himself, 'You even suggest to threaten me again with the disk, Mistress, and you'll be added to my very long list of names to execute revenge upon before I leave. Whether you're just doing your job or not, you will answer pain for pain, I promise.' 

Somehow he needed to disarm her of that controller. 

But instead he just nodded that he understood and began wandering around the room, touching all the fine silks. 

"So if I get dressed for this evening's festivities, you will allow me to leave this room you've successfully trapped me in. Correct? Although I admit this is the most colorful and fancy cage I've ever been cooped up in. How appropriate to have such an exquisite creature as...."

"Stop right there lover boy. Save the seduction for tonight's gala. You're going to need to spread that suave sex appeal smoothly over every individual you meet, and present your assets appropriately to the Grandmaster most of all. As I said, I'm not your warden. I have a job to do, so let's do it. Only then will the room let you out."

"The room? Mistress Sheeva, you speak as though the room is sentient? Surely you jest." Loki's eye shifted up to the shelf where he'd possibly seen movement earlier, wondering now if there was something up there hiding, or if the shelf moved by itself.

"Why, child? Are you hearing things or seeing ghosts?" She chuckled as she began opening drawers under the table, setting out old heavy metal tools that looked far too large for her hands: scissors long enough to clip a hedge, two sets of clamps large and small, and eight pairs of pliers varying from small to extra large.

She lifted a large fancy chest onto the table, dropping it with a heavy thud, then continued speaking while she stacked metal links from inside the chest, all varying in size.

"No my dear, the room is not sentient nor haunted, unless you count me as spooky or ghoulish," she teased with a smirk and a wink.

Loki just rolled his eyes as muscle memory instinctively reverted to his well used 'too cool and bored to be here' facial expression to hide his curiosity and slight apprehension regarding the additional items she had arranged on the table. 

"BOO!!!" 

The woman laughed when he jumped, or rather when he stumbled back and whipped out two more daggers. Her laugh was a full body laugh that started deep down on her chest and vibrated her entire body. She needed three hands to steady her chest so her breasts wouldn't pop out of their corseted confines. This was definitely the most genuine sound to come out of her mouth yet. 

Her hearty laugh was also a very beautiful sound, almost melodic, and definitely infectious. She didn't even slow down or miss a beat as two arms flew out to again confiscate his weapons as though he was a toddler threatening to hold his breath. The absurdity was not lost on Loki as he whipped out three more daggers aimed at her head which barely had a moment airborne. By the third dagger, Loki could no longer resist a laugh or hide his amusement. She had startled him fair and square, even if the trick was a silly child's prank at his expense.

"You will give those all back when we're through here, yes? You have made it abundantly clear that such weapons are as useless as flimsy toys against you. So they are no threat to you, but may be of great use to me later. You know, when I escape," he proposed, keeping with the lighter tone and mood, hoping that his candor would be appreciated and taken into account.

Alas, she concluded her jovial fit with a few swipes to her neck with a silk swatch that she plucked from the wall and with a deep breath to collect her faculties again, then she looked Loki straight in the eye with a somewhat kind smile but stern fix of her jaw. 

"No."

Before he could even begin a rebuttal, her finger was on his mouth to shush him so she could continue where she left off.

"Time and space are just a bit skewed here as you may have noticed. It's not magic. You keep searching for spells that you will not find. This is just a room. It's an unusual room, but still just a room. Just as when you push or pull on a door, it will open if it is not locked, so will this room open when you are ready. Until you are ready, it is locked. It's all quite straightforward physics in a roundabout way."

"I see," Loki said, feeling no more informed than when he stepped foot into the room.

"Why are you still dressed???!!!" Mistress Sheeva suddenly shouted sounding rushed. "Gracious! You've distracted me with your chitter chatter for too long. We need to get you all gussied up and wrapped like a wedding bouquet for someone to hold and cherish all evening."

"A wedding bouquet? Wrapped? To cherish??" Loki took enough steps back to stumble into the wall that seemed to keep appearing out of nowhere and found himself engulfed in the silk sashes. 

"Green? Did I notice that you liked the green silks? Right?" She stared at him expectantly as he untangled himself and regained composure. He finally nodded. 

"Yes. Green will be quite suitable. Thank you." 

"Excellent! Fine choice. Fine choice." Mistress Sheeva reached over to the wall selecting several shades of green and held each one up to Loki's face, hemming and hawing with each one.

Abruptly brought out of her pensive considerations of colors, she raised her gaze up to the shelf high above. Snapping all of her fingers at once, she called out, "Come my sweets! There's work to do!!!"

Loki saw movement on the shelf again, and to his surprise twelve teal boxes unfolded themselves. Climbing down from the shelf were a dozen smaller versions of Mistress Sheeva, graceful, mesmerizing, and quite intimidating with so many of them in a small space such as this closet. Twelve little ladies chattering away in a series of clicks and squeaks, and eyeing the victim in front of them with coy little smiles. Some had their hair in a tight bun like the Mistress, some with hair cropped short, others in pigtails or braids. Each wore leather wound around their torso yet none of them showed any freckles below the waist like Mistress Sheeva did.

"Quiet down! Quiet down!" the Mistress chided like a schoolmarm. Then she barked out orders in the same language of clicks and squeaks, fondling the silks and gesturing back and forth between Loki and the leather.

Loki stared at the creatures and Mistress Sheeva in awe and curiosity, until the Mistress gave one final gesture toward him that must have signaled her army of tailors to commence, because they all moved toward him at once.

Loki tried to back up but was not fast enough before the twelve creatures were on him. His vehement protests and attempts to block their attacks and shake them off of his body were useless. He even brandished several knives in succession, only to have each one swiped out of his hand before he could even attempt to stab or lunge at anything.

The hoard crawled over him enmasse, somehow stripping him of his clothes in pieces so quickly that he couldn't discern whether they were tearing or cutting, especially since each of his own confiscated knives had been tossed to their Mistress who casually placed them safely in the same spot as the knives from his prior posturing. 

Either way he was now standing completely nude, with a dozen creatures slathering him with a woody scented oil-like substance from head to toe, and yet not one of them was holding a bottle or container of any sort. 

Loki groaned to himself, trying not to dwell on possible sources of this substance that was being smeared onto his body, covering every inch, including between his toes, under his arms, and all over and under other parts of his body as well.

Once the fondling became too much, which was very quickly 'too much', Loki screamed "Enough!" at the top of his lungs with such a ferocious roar that all twelve creatures and even Mistress Sheeva froze in place with their mouths gaping open in surprise.

Loki panted with his nostrils flaring from his rage and the exertion he'd put forth in vain attempts to free himself. After taking this mere moment to breath, he was cut off before he could say another word.

"My lovely little prince," Mistress Sheeva addressed him in that same patronizing voice. Waving the obedience disk controller in her hand as a reminder to him of who was ultimately in charge, she warned him, "I suggest you settle down and let my girls do their job. They are very good at their jobs, aren't you my sweets," she cooed at them. "We want nothing more than for you to have a successful evening charming the pants off everyone you meet." 

Mistress Sheeva then smirked and laughed as she added in afterthought, "Oooooo, and please keep us in mind should any of those soon to be pantless creatures out there need new pants; just send them to me!!!! We'll have them re-panted in no time!" She barely held back a snort, finding her little joke far more funny than Loki did. 

In fact Mistress Sheeva's nonchalant and laissez-faire attitude toward his obvious dismay made this entire ordeal of getting stripped and essentially molested by these creatures of hers even more offensive and upsetting for Loki. Upset as he was, he swallowed his anger in order to focus on leaving this closet, and then off this planet.

Forcing a smile, "Fine, but is there any possibility that your little minions can be a little less... familiar?"

At that very moment, just as she replied a flat out, "No," with no elaboration, the creatures began moving again, each tiny hand holding a small soft cloth, acquired from who knows where.

The stimulation was so intense and so fast, his body didn't have a clue how to react. Twelve little creatures, each with eight little hands, all rubbing in circular motions appearing to polish and buff Loki's skin reminded him of how the palace servants would polish the precious metal embellishments on the royal vehicles on Asgard.

This entire experience was becoming more and more strange and demeaning as the moments ticked on. Loki considered that it may even be worth the pain of the obedience disk to just revolt and kill as many of these little vermin as possible in that split second before Mistress Sheeva would incapacitate him. Considering how lightning fast they were disarming him the first time he fought back, he calculated that even taking a different tactic he may only be able to snap the necks of two creatures, maybe three if Sheeva was distracted at the time. Ideally she would be angry enough to incapacitate him to the extent of rendering him unconscious, but there was no guarantee. 

'Decisions. Decisions.' Loki thought as he ground his teeth from the tension bordering on nausea standing there perfectly still enduring a more extreme level of manhandling than even a royal kitchen's prize bird would experience being prepared for a grand feast: plucked and cleaned, dressed and trussed, and now glazed to perfection. At least the bird would have the luxury of decapitation before being sent through the wringer like this.

Before Loki had a chance to act, they stopped just a abruptly as they had started. . 

Mistress Sheeva approached him slowly, with one finger absently stroking her lips back and forth as she tilted her head, inspecting and appraising Loki like a beast at auction. Slowly walking around him, stepping over her little minions who encircled him standing barely a foot tall at full attention, each with eight little hands clasped in front waiting expectantly for their Mistress's judgement and next command.

Loki concluded that despite her placement on his list for later retaliation and the unusual and upsetting experience she just put him through, he was warming up to this creature... woman. She was quite beautiful with her stern and commanding presence. Staring at her face while attempting to disassociate from his body only a few moments ago, he had imagined looking at her from a different point of view, preferably looming over her once she's been rendered harmless with all eight arms bound with those beautiful leather straps she has displayed on the table. The tendrils may be a bit more difficult to restrain without the aid of a spell. He would have to consider and possibly research which spell might be most effective. 

Her features were purposefully accentuated to appear severe by her choice of hair style and the manner she had applied paint around her eyes, on her lips, and low on her cheeks. Now having watched her facial expressions change as she observed her 'makeover project', directed her miniature army to attack him, and especially when she was focusing elsewhere unaware of his gaze, Loki became more curious who was the woman hidden under the domineering facade. 

He couldn't help but imagine how her hair would look if released from its up-do. Was it long? Would it cascade over her shoulder and down her back? Or was it short, full of curls that would bounce as her head bobbed up and down swallowing his cum down her long elegant throat?

Loki's imagination aided in distracting his mind from the intense prickling he was feeling all over the surface of his body, as the substance began to stiffen slightly after being polished. He became so enveloped in his lewd thoughts, he failed to realize that he had closed his eyes and licked his lips.

His mind's eye saw the paint on her lips smeared across her cheek, her saliva mixed with his cum dripping off her chin, eyes bloodshot and watering, streaking the paint around her eyes down her face as she caught her breath, chest heaving with her breasts ready to burst from their confinement. Just a few more deep breaths and they would surely be freed and begging for attention - tender, then rough, then tender again. Grabbing what little hair was still wound up in the bun, he would tilt her head back and.... 

The Mistress loudly cleared her throat, ripping his attention back to the reality his mind was trying to escape. His discomfort had him on such edge, his plans of escape were fading from his mind, overtaken with enduring the here and now. His last morsel of will power held back a painful roar. If she came any closer he may lunge and pin her to the ground. 

He watched her gaze scan over his entire body, silently reminding himself, 'I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, Rightful King of Jotunheim,.... God of..... Mischief...... God..... of...... Lies,..... Master..... Sor...... Sorc....... Sorcer....... Sorcerer......... Fuck! Please don't touch me. Please don't.....' 

Her eyes changed, dilated, studying Loki's body in a manner that seemed more lustful now than the mere appraisal just moments ago.

Loki moved his hands to cover his manhood just as she reached out and brushed her fingers across both cheeks of his rear, emitting a purring sound like a large cat. His gluteus muscles contracted and quivered from the light touch, straining now to stay tight, while his cock under his hands grew to stand at immediate attention.

'Dammit.'

"Oh yes, you are very sensitive now, my princeling." She leaned in to blow on his chest and smiled with pride when his pectoral and abdominal muscles twitched and his nipples stood at attention. She ran her hand soothingly over his chest, causing Loki to exhale at the sensation, and then she swatted his hands away so she could examine his cock.

Loki swallowed a growl and began to speak, in hopes to politely request release from the room if she was done with him, having forgotten all about the closet's purpose of providing attire for this evening. Of course, a release of some other sort would be fine too if she wasn't done with him yet and had something interesting in mind. Then again, this entire day had already been quite packed full of interesting 'somethings.' Maybe just a handshake and a bid 'adieu' would suffice. 

"Sweet Mistress Sheeva, I would like to thank you so much for all your work and attention. I'm sure the Grandmaster will be very pleased with how... buffed and gleaming I am. But if you and your... helpers are finished, may I request just a robe? I will then be out of your way in the blink of an eye."

"Does this get even larger?" 

Mistress Sheeva acted as though Loki hadn't even spoken, focused only on his semi-hard cock twitching and bobbing all on its own, autonomously reaching for her hand as she waved it back and forth as though she were trying to hypnotize it, or tease it with the slightest of almost-touches, barely grazing the skin of his shaft.

"Excuse me, Mistress? Of course it...... GETS..... BIG....BIG....-GER!..... Ohhhh Valhalla!!!!" 

Two hands had wrapped around his impressive phallus and started pumping ever so slowly, adding a third hand as it grew harder and longer. Her eyes shined with approval of his body's responsive endowment. 

"Ohhh, you are perfect! There is nothing little about you my sweet prince. This is so perfect! What a wonderful prize for the Grandmaster or for whomever you meet and become acquainted with tonight."

Leaning down to firmly lick the drop of wet that had leaked from his tip, she moaned an even more arousing "Mmmm," as she stood back up.

"If only I could keep you for myself, tuck you away here, in my closet. Oh, I could hang you from the ceiling in so many beautiful erotic poses. Your body just begs to be contorted, twisted, and teased."

In contrast to Loki's nature, he could actually picture himself hanging from the ceiling at her mercy and how exquisite the release would be. He was certainly ready for such a release now, on the verge of coming all over her face if she would allow him to aim correctly.

"Mistress, I believe that I am nearing....." 

She let go, stepped back, and smiled with pride.

Loki's mouth gaped open in disbelief. How dare she stop and look so smug. Back to his revenge list, she just rose up toward the top of the list with a star to signify that creative torture would be warranted in her case.

His words of protest were stunted by his surprise when she waved her hand to her mini tailors to commence the next stage.

The creatures seemed to almost fly around the room as they climbed, jumped, and scaled the walls of silks as well as Loki's still formidable stature. Before his eyes, the twelve tailors wove, twisted, tied, and braided the silks around each of his arms from shoulder down in between each finger. They did the same on each thigh, beginning with just below the knee directly up to where his leg joined the pelvis.

Each member of the team had a job, working at impossible speeds with a blur of hands knotting the silks into an intricate lace that was fit for royalty. 'Who had she previously tailored for?' wondered Loki silently. In life before Sakaar, everyone stranded here had some sort of prior life with responsibilities or hobbies to pass the time. If she had a placement serving monarchs, he would not be surprised, because her talent surely made her worthy of such an honor. 

Mistress Sheeva's many hands moved with a skill that looked almost like a choreographed dance, set in time with the dulcet clinks, snaps, and chimes of the metal rings bumping one another. She hooked, threaded, and tied the leather to the gleaming polished rings, connecting and linking those in a pattern that easily qualified itself as fine art. 

Her tailors also doubled as cobblers apparently, as the tentacled little elves retrieved sets of the linked leather as she finished them. Scaling his legs, lifting his feet gently and wrapping more leather straps around his calves, up to just below the knee to meet and hook onto the silk lace that it met there.

As quickly as everything had started, all commotion stopped and the little enchanted dwarves stood at attention, waiting for her assessment just as they had earlier. She nodded and tapped the back of her neck in thought, prodding and tugging various connections to test its security and stability, asking Loki how it felt. "Too tight? Is this comfortable here?" Yet she didn't appear to notice nor care that he did not answer and stayed silent, until she grabbed and stroked his cock again, bringing it immediately back to its full stature.

At this point, Loki responded loudly, "Please Mistress Sheeva, either gift me with release or kindly grant me the privacy to attend to myself. Otherwise this is surely no state to greet the Grandmaster in."

She just laughed at him and gave a couple more good long strokes before letting go and grabbing several of the green scarves she had picked out.

"By the Great Saviors, no, no, no. This is exactly the state the Grandmaster expects his guests to all be in. What type of soiree did you think you were going to? This is Sakaar!" 

Her chuckles faded away slowly as she focused on her work. She alone wove the silks around his pelvis, hugging his hips, and expertly lifting his ass as though the Allfather's high priestesses themselves were cupping and fondling Loki's perfectly toned bottom. She wound the silks tightly around his erect fertility staff, before securing it firmly upright against his body, displaying its full potential yet protecting its temporary unsatisfied 'virtue'. 

Unlike the lace that the miniature seamstresses had woven, the Mistress's creation looked markedly different. Several silk ends hung down.

Noticing his curiosity as he surveyed her handy work, she offered a cryptic explanation. 

"Some lucky devil will be blessed with permission to unwrap your beautiful gift, or rather unwrap the beautiful gift of YOU. So don't touch the pulls yet!" She warned. "You won't want to spoil the impact upon your cock's moment of freedom." 

"Of course, Mistress Sheeva. Of course. Now may I..." 

"One last thing, and you will be perfection!" She reached for the leather pile from the table and held up a simple harness which had leather straps would criss-cross across his chest as well as across his back. 

The little creatures all cheered as she held it up as though these simple leather straps were the crowning glory of the ensemble, instead of the fine craftsmanship of the silk lace which Loki found much more impressive. 

But as she strapped the leather contraption to Loki's torso, her army formed a line like little maids in a row, each holding a green and gold two toned scarf with pomp.

Once the harness was secure, the Mistress accepted one scarf at a time, and threaded one end through a small metal ring on Loki's back leaving the rest of the scarf to fall and flow as he walked. Eleven more scarves were attached to rings on his back, flowing like a chiffon waves as he moved.

Mistress Sheeva was obviously quite pleased with their handiwork, beaming as she insisted Loki do a full turn so she and her workers could admire their finished product, the Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies...... 

'.... A clown dripping with leather and peek-a-boo lace, wearing a chiffon superhero cape.' Loki's inner voice was a little skeptical. 

No, he did not have a mirror in which to view his outfit, but he felt ridiculous, vulnerable, and on display.

Of course, he did know better. Whether naked or dressed like a buffoon ready for a Superheroes In Bondage Teaparty, he knew that his stature, his posture, his countenance, his aura, his very presence screamed virility, strength, intelligence, dominance, and royalty. So at least in this moment he didn't care what he was wearing, he just needed to leave this closet. He just needed to go.

As though this obviously definitely not-sentient closet could truly read his mind, a large set of French doors appeared and opened behind him, connecting to the accommodations that the Grandmaster had granted him. 

Loki turned to Mistress Sheeva, formally thanking her with a slight bow.

"My dear Mistress Sheeva, this has definitely been an experience. Making your acquaintance, as well as your little miniature tailors," nodding in their direction as well, "has been a most memorable experience that I will speak and reminisce about for years. Now if you would be so kind as to return my meager little weapons, it would be greatly appreciated." 

She eyed him closely for a moment, "Well, you have been a good boy…. What do you think, my little pretties?" They all purred and sang their clicks in response. Mistress nodded and retrieved the pile of daggers now neatly wrapped up in a silk bundle.

With a smirk, she blew him a kiss and caressed his cheek. "Oh yes, my little princeling, you are very pretty for the eyes. I'll be counting the moments until your return."

Turning to leave, Loki muttered under his breath, "Maybe, my dear. Maybe. But next time on my terms."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mini creatures were all scaling the walls to return to their hiding places, each folding back up like a box again. One of them paused and waved at him before she scurried to catch up with her sisters.

'Note to self: Arrange for babysitter when I return for revenge torture session. And bring a door stop.' 

Loki caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror at the head of the bed. Stopping for a moment to truly grade the Mistress's handiwork, he was pleasantly surprised. The outfit looked much more tasteful than he had ever expected. Although a silk robe and leather thong would have shown more skin, this ensemble was still more provocative with a very unique allure to it.

His main complaint was that the leather straps were really going to be a bother. In fact, his skin was still quite sensitive from head to toe. This made the rough leather harness near intolerable.

'Hopefully this evening will pass by fast enough to remove these accouterments before I completely lose composure and strip in the middle of the room,' he repeated to himself a few times in his head as though his brain was set on repeat each time he strained to reach a trouble on his back. 

'Damn it!' he cursed, still unable to reach that spot. 'Hopefully this evening will pass by fast enough to remove these accouterments before I completely lose composure and strip in the middle of the room,'

Finally reaching his target by scraping his back along the crisp corner of a doorway, he smiled in the momentary relief. 'Of course, it wouldn't be the first time for that to happen. Oh, there are so many reasons to take one's clothes off, but so little time.'

______


End file.
